


Watching One's Pride

by chubbychoco



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Actually There's a Little Plot, Alpha Jesse McCree, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Also Gabriel Knows More Than He Lets On, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But Not Much, Knotting, M/M, Omega Hanzo Shimada, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scent Kink, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 19:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11191749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chubbychoco/pseuds/chubbychoco
Summary: Jesse's more than a little restless, so his neighbor suggests he buy himself something rare and pretty - specifically, an omega.  And really, it's not like it was bad advice.  It would only be fitting that his omega is as stubborn and determined as he is, but lucky for Jesse, he and Hanzo have something in common.They like to watch.





	Watching One's Pride

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd (like all my work), and mostly just written to get the idea out of my system. Enjoy!

The house felt bigger without other people in it. It wasn't surprising, really – once the war was over, people had lives they wanted to get back to, partners they wanted to start a family with. Jesse didn't expect his house to stay a hub of activity forever.  
  
But wandering alpha minds rarely lent themselves anything good.  
  
His neighbor, Gabriel, soon got tired of picking him up from his latest pub brawl. After the sixth, he'd given him a rough shake and an utterly shameless suggestion. 'Go to the auction house and buy yourself an omega,' he'd snorted. 'That's what I did when I got restless.' Jesse was aware of that; Gabriel and the omega he'd purchased had a habit of fucking on the balcony. The properties were large enough that really, it could have gone unnoticed forever. But wandering alpha minds also tended to be nosy, and their homes were just close enough that Jesse had a decent view through two towering magnolias. He had gotten into the habit of watching Gabriel's house with idle interest.  
  
Well, it had _started_ as idle interest. It became a much more definite one after he saw that...which he probably should have been ashamed of, but shame wasn't one of Jesse's strong points.  
  
The problem was, omegas were rare. And rare meant expensive.  
  
The argument had fallen on deaf ears. Jesse had been paid handsomely for lending his manor to the war effort. 'What else are you going to do with all that money? Go. Buy. Fool around. Start a family if he's interested in that.' Never mind that Jesse wasn't. 'Besides, better to be owned than someone like you than one of those fat, creepy fucks who collect them.' Okay, so it was harder to argue with that last part.  
  
Which was how he'd found himself in Blacksilk Merkato, sitting in one of the main hall's many soft, oversized armchairs and waiting for the first omega to be brought out. He was surrounded by society's elite, and frankly, he hated it. Hated that cloying perfumed smell of them, hated their uppity mannerisms and those tiny little sandwiches they pretended they were full on, hated the way they stared at his prosthetic when they thought he wasn't aware of them. Jesse had inherited his big house and fallen into money by accident – he was no high-and-mighty duke or lord. He was just a man who got lucky a couple times.  
  
 _Not quite enough though, huh?_ he mused to himself, flexing metal fingers.  
  
The building itself was, he had to admit, lovely. A well-lit, but not overly-bright center stage was framed in – what else? – flowing black silk trimmed with gold. The side and backstage areas were obscured, but elegantly curved staircases on either side of the stage allowed the winning bidder to claim their prize in person. The seats were not like those found in a theater, opting for comfort and luxury over spacial concerns. Each could easily fit three, but rarely housed more than two until bidding began. The walls were decorated with traditional art and severs circled the crowds, looking for those in need of refreshments. It was classy as hell, nothing like Jesse was used to.  
  
An older man, heavy with muscle, came out onto the stage in full war decoration. He cleared his throat calmly to quiet the idle chatter, then announced in a booming voice, “Esteemed ladies and gentlemen. I am delighted to host you all tonight, and even more delighted to say I have been entrusted with the care of an astonishing number of omegas tonight. I assume you have all read the rules, but in case you have not, I would like to highlight three of them. Firstly, there is to be no violence on the premises. Threats or pursuit thereof is grounds for immediate expulsion and blacklisting.”  
  
Jesse found himself smirking. Rules like that existed for a reason; how many alphas had gotten scent-drunk and started something with a moneyed winner, he wondered?  
  
“Second, do not demean our omegas by considering them anything as crass as property or commodities. You are not paying for _ownership._ You are paying for _guardianship._ ” Right, like that mentality lasted long outside of Blacksilk's walls. “Third and finally, my role as caretaker does not end when you make your purchase. I am always listening for those who are hurting.” His single eye became sharp with determination, and Jesse could feel the air leave the room. “And I will always retrieve them.”  
  
So, the auctioneer followed up on the omegas, and would take them back from the nastier alphas...well, that was refreshing. Not that Jesse had any plans on mistreating his – if he even got one – but still. Gabriel hadn't mentioned that. Jack was clearly happy to live with him, which wasn't surprising, given the regularity with which they dragged each other out onto the balcony.  
  
There was more chatter, things Jesse was less interested in, and then the first omega of the night was led out onto the stage. Wire-thin and blond, wearing heavy-rimmed glasses, he wasn't even close to Jesse's type. He sipped a whiskey as bids flew around him, and the omega ultimately ended up seated several rows behind Jesse. The second omega didn't catch his interest either, or the third, or the fourth. There were supposed to be ten that night, apparently, so he still had time.  
  
It wasn't until the seventh that he suddenly felt the need to open his wallet.  
  
The man led out onto the stage had clearly not been raised by someone who planned on advertising him as nothing more than a breeder. He was muscular and walked with stern confidence, and looked out at the crowd as if he was _daring_ them to bid on him. Mid-length black hair was pulled into a high ponytail, revealing a shock of grey at one temple. And as he sat himself on the pillowed pedestal in center stage, he shrugged one side of his kyudo-gi away to reveal a stunning dragon tattoo.  
  
He just looked so far above everyone else.  
  
Jesse had to have him.  
  
“Esteemed guests, I present Hanzo Shimada. Mr. Shimada is the eldest son of his family, well-versed in archery and multiple languages, and, I am given to understand, quite the poet. Bidding will start at five thousand.”  
  
Jesse's hand shot up.  
  
“I have five thousand. Do I hear six?”  
  
He did hear six, and Jesse quickly threw out six and a half. And then eight, and ten, and higher still until he could hear his competition shuffling uncomfortably in their seats. Hanzo had fixed him in an eagle-eyed stare, and Jesse returned the gaze.  
  
“Do I hear sixty-five and a half? No?” The auctioneer clapped his hands together. “Well then! Sir, please come and escort your omega – you don't have to go home, but he can't stay here.” There was mild, polite laughter scattered through the crowd as Jesse stood to his feet and walked up the stairs. His spurs jingled at every step, and he shot Hanzo a pleasant grin as he approached the pedestal.  
  
“Well howdy, darlin',” Jesse murmured.  
  
The look Hanzo fixed him in could have melted steel. “How did you make it in here?” he asked, threadbare acid in his voice. The auctioneer looked flabbergasted, and shot Jesse an apologetic frown; Hanzo didn't seem to care. “You are...unrefined.”  
  
 _Well, ouch_. “Is that you turnin' me down?”  
  
“No.” Hanzo stood and joined him, a slight wrinkle to his nose. Once they were offstage, Jesse headed straight for the door. Hanzo's displeased look deepened. “I suppose you will be taking me home to claim me accordingly.”  
  
“Uh...actually, I was thinkin' about dinner. Not that the claimin' don't sound fun and all, but there's an order to these things.” Jesse propped the door open for him. “Plus you don't seem keen on sayin' 'yes'. And I ain't the type to disrespect that.”  
  
Hanzo's displeasure softened and his look became more mild. Clearly he hadn't been expecting that. “...I would like dinner. Do you know of anyplace that serves Japanese food?” He wasn't saying it out loud, but Jesse knew why he'd asked – the trip from Japan wasn't a short one, and Hanzo had likely been without the comfort of familiar flavors for far too long.  
  
“There's a teahouse on the way home. They've got some food, too; you wanna try that?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
  


* * *

  
  
Hanzo was impossible.  
  
Jesse had owned him for more than half a year now, and he could smell Hanzo's attraction – not to mention his habit of magically being in the same room as Jesse, even if he was otherwise ignoring him completely. It was like owning a cat, except he didn't _own_ Hanzo, and he wouldn't let himself stoop to the sort of level where he thought that.  
  
But damn it, what was getting in the way?! Hanzo's scent was constantly drenched with a deep, needy craving for Jesse. It spiked whenever Jesse offered a casual touch, and his heats...  
  
...fucking hell, his heats.  
  
To his credit, Hanzo wasn't the needy, squirming mess that dirty novels made omegas out to be. Many omegas would get that way with an alpha they were mated to, but Hanzo left his bedroom for food, entertainment, and comfort with regularity...even if his skin was warm and his knees shook and his thighs were completely drenched in slick. His scent was creamy and sharp, like milk infused with musk and clove, and it would stay stuck in Jesse's head for hours.  
  
That was new. Jesse had smelled omegas in heat before, and he'd usually take a second whiff, briefly imagine being there to sate that need, then go on with his day. Hanzo was completely different. Jesse would stand down the hall from his locked door, just breathing in that smell, teeth sinking into his lower lip and palming himself through the pitched front of his pants. He could hear Hanzo in his room, groaning and whining – definitely touching himself, Jesse would have killed a man to see what Hanzo looked like when he masturbated – which was bad enough. But when he came, Hanzo would moan Jesse's name into the cloying, thick air of his room.  
  
Jesse was going insane.  
  
It was Gabriel once again to the rescue when he finally told him what the problem between them was. “Pride, dumbass. This man was once the heir to one of the richest families in Japan...and suddenly, he presents as an omega, and he's a fucking _bargaining chip._ And then he doesn't even get bought up by some highborn with fancy manners.”  
  
“So you're sayin' he won't admit that he wants me because I'm a normal person?” Jesse asked doubtfully.  
  
“Rich people are a selective bunch. Put some effort into seducing him. Break out your nicest possible phrasing, rub his shoulders, and show the man a good time.” Gabriel shrugged. “And if he still says no, back off and ask him what he wants from life. Maybe it doesn't involve you or your house.”  
  
The idea made Jesse feel unusually irritable. He wanted Hanzo, but more than that, he wanted Hanzo to want him. Openly. None of it meant anything if Hanzo didn't _like_ Jesse's advances.  
  
Gabriel's advice helped, to an extent. Hanzo stopped rebuffing him with pointed criticisms of his speech patterns and habits, and he'd lean into Jesse's touch with soft noises of approval...but he'd always slip away before anything more. Jesse didn't understand it; he could smell the ache of need on him; when Hanzo walked away, the hunger rolled from him in waves. He was missing something. Some last little puzzle piece that would tell Hanzo that it was alright; no one was going to mock him for his leather-clad alpha.  
  
The puzzle piece clicked into place when Jesse caught Hanzo watching him undress. Jesse may never have caught on if it weren't for the sudden sharp stab of a lusting omega right on the other side of his door...but once he smelled it, he walked over and threw the door open, pleased as punch to find a very flustered-looking Hanzo on the other side.  
  
“Somethin' I can do for you, darlin'?”  
  
“I – I wished to speak with you. I thought it best to wait until you had changed.”  
  
“Mm-hm. And the part where you watched me through the little gap?”  
  
“I do not know what you mean.” Hanzo lifted his chin, proud as a peacock, and gave a rough scoff.  
  
It didn't do a damn thing to fool him. Too late for Hanzo to save face. Jesse had finally found something they had in common.  
  
And while he could probably have just stripteased him next time Hanzo decided to spy through the door, Jesse knew that his stubbornness would make a surprise reentry unless he broke out the big guns. He had to make sure he and Hanzo were in the exact same boat, and each loving the ride as much as the other.  
  
Voyeurism was one hell of a meeting point, but who was he to argue fate?  
  
And when Hanzo first realized what Jesse was encouraging him to look at, several nights later, he turned a brilliant pink and fixed Jesse in a judgmental scowl.  
  
“You do _not_ watch your neighbors engage in sexual activity!” he insisted.  
  
“Quit lookin' at me. Look at Jack.” Jesse knew it was completely arbitrary to be jealous if Hanzo watched Gabriel instead, but he'd be damned if he'd suggest it. The only alpha he wanted Hanzo hot for was him.  
  
“I will not! It is completely crude, and what is more, this is a moment they intended for themselves.”  
  
Jesse smirked and held Hanzo gently from behind, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over Hanzo's shoulders. Hanzo was free to break away if he wanted to...but for the time being, he was still busy flicking his attention between Jesse and the balcony. “You'll watch me, but not them?” Jesse asked.  
  
“I can't _believe_ you watch them. Filthy man,” Hanzo said, completely dodging the question.  
  
“Oh, c'mon, like they think they're bein' so secretive on their damn balcony _._ Besides, look at 'em.”  
  
Hanzo was. He was utterly ashamed of himself for it, but his peripheral vision dragged along the lithe, pale curve of Jack's body and up to Gabriel – strong-handed, sure-touched Gabriel, whose fingertips had Jack squirming even before he rubbed them through the cleft of his ass. Hanzo wouldn't have minded being touched like that, but when he pictured it, an extremely familiar metal hand took the place of Gabriel's.  
  
“Hard not to appreciate the sight, ain't it?” Jesse murmured into his hair. Hanzo's breath caught when Gabriel dropped to his knees on the balcony, burying his face between Jack's thighs. The almost-gasp was telling enough. “Jack makes a damn pretty picture when he's in heat.” Hanzo could feel Jesse's lips trace forward, to his ear, and he couldn't have willed the blood away from his cock if he'd spent his whole life practicing. “I'll bet you do, too. That could be us, y'know...I don't wanna just fuck you out an' leave you. I wanna make you feel _good,_ Hanzo. An' I wanna hold you through the night, make you breakfast in the mornin'...”  
  
Hanzo swallowed thickly around nothing. “So – so you bring me to watch these men...why?”  
  
“You like watchin',” Jesse said, an edge of pleading in his voice. Unspoken begging for permission to bring him pleasure. “And I like watchin' you, like watchin' with you. Just seemed like it made sense to me.”  
  
Hanzo remained silent for a long time, feeling the strength of Jesse's grip...and marveling at how, even though Jesse wanted him like a drowning man wanted air, Jesse was holding him in a way that would let him retreat if he wanted to. His senses were torn between Jesse, hard and needy behind him, and Gabriel and Jack in front of him. He could just barely hear Jack's high cries of pleasure, but it was easy to see the way his hips jolted as Gabriel did...whatever he was doing up there. The view wasn't _that_ good.  
  
“Jesse,” Hanzo breathed, and hearing his name from his lips like that made Jesse go light-headed.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Touch me.”  
  
It was spoken like an order, albeit thin and floaty with desire. Jesse wanted to tear his clothes off and touch every damn inch of him, but Gabriel's warning about Hanzo's pride rang in his head. It took every iota of self-control he possessed to slide Hanzo's clothing off slowly, fingers tracing first over collarbones before moving slowly down to Hanzo's nipples.  
  
Hanzo whined, pressing into the touch as Jesse gently rolled his fingers, rubbing until each nipple was full, pink and hard. He could feel a quivering unsteadiness roll down his legs, making his knees weak.  
  
“Is that good?” Jesse murmured.  
  
“You know it is, shut up,” Hanzo snapped. As with his order, it lacked strength.  
  
“Cool your jets, darlin',” Jesse soothed. “I ain't gonna tell anyone you enjoyed yourself. Don't wanna hurt you like that.” Hanzo's flushed face did not change in shade, but he did give a soft whine and a firm, unmistakable nod when Jesse began tracing his hand down, fingertips skimming over his waistband. Jesse licked his lips, thumbing over the thin, soft line of hair beneath Hanzo's navel.  
  
Jesse had spent far too much time wondering what it would be feel like to hold Hanzo's hard, leaking cock to keep himself waiting for too long. He ran the flat of his palm down, untying the catches between them, taking in a sharp breath when Hanzo's pants fell with a soft noise of rushing air, pooling at his ankles. Hanzo tensed slightly, a nervous rumble rising in his throat...but then Jesse dropped both palms to his hips, kneading the peaks, and the rumble died.  
  
It changed into something completely different when Jesse finally took hold of his arousal in one hand, giving him a slow, experimental stroke. Hanzo gave a high-pitched cry, rolling against that calloused palm without meaning to. Jesse groaned in heated approval, and his free hand went up again – up to brace against Hanzo's collarbone, pulling him gently back to he could kiss and suck at Hanzo's neck. The desire to scent out that tender bundle of nerves and pheromones and sink his teeth in was more than pressing, but no. He'd done everything right by Hanzo up to this point, and he wasn't about to fuck it up now by prematurely marking him as his mate.  
  
Hanzo seemed to sense his restraint – or maybe he just figured it out when Jesse lingered on the spot, licking and sucking without so much as a graze of his teeth – and he rewarded him by dropping one hand to the windowsill to brace himself and moving the other behind him to fumble at Jesse's belt buckle. “I want this off,” he murmured. “I want to feel you.”  
  
Jesse went dizzy, sparks of white firing off behind his eyes. Fucking hell, how did he do that with just words? He nodded and dropped his hand from Hanzo's collarbone, yanking at the tongue of his belt and wrestling it open with shaking fingers. He unzipped his jeans and shimmied them down over his hips; the denim wasn't as loose and forgiving as Hanzo's clothing, and caught painfully on the curve of his ass when he tried to yank it free a little too soon. He hissed sharply, not wanting to stop his steady, teasing stokes on Hanzo's cock.  
  
Hanzo swatted his hand away and turned to face him. He looked calm enough, but the thick smell of the air and the shaking of his knees told a completely different story. “Here,” he said, sliding effortlessly beneath the fabric and shimmying it down. Jesse moved his cock out of the way, giving a relieved sigh when it sprang free.  
  
The effect that seeing him hard and ready had on Hanzo was instantaneous. A fresh gush of slick wetted his cheeks and thighs, and he murmured something in Japanese which Jesse didn't understand in the slightest. It didn't sound like a complaint, though.  
  
“Take off those stupid boots,” Hanzo instructed. “If I'm going to be naked, so are you.”  
  
Jesse almost laughed at Hanzo's characteristic opinion of his boots, but laughing would have only made him sullen, so he just did as instructed instead. The boots came off first, then his socks, and he was one fumbled button away from tearing his shirt off as Hanzo slid his jeans down to his ankles. Jesse could feel the heat of his breath on his cock as Hanzo rose back up, and a growl escaped him unbidden.  
  
Hanzo's pupils went wide and he swallowed thickly. “Can we do it here?” he asked.  
  
“Here? You don't wanna go to the bedroom?” Jesse asked. Hanzo remained silent, but flicked a blink-and-miss-it glance back at the window. Jesse's eyes widened in understanding. “Oh. _Oh._ Yeah, we can stay here, darlin'. Whatever you want.”  
  
Hanzo nodded, satisfied, then turned and braced himself against the windowsill again. Jesse took a moment to just take in the sight of him – all that pale skin, bare and beautiful and his for the taking. His dragon tattoo was as gorgeous as the rest of him, matching the curve of his body in passionately detailed blue and gold. But Jesse's desires were extremely simple at that moment, and what really caught his attention was the flushed cock, tight-drawn testicles, and wet, soft-rimmed hole that Hanzo was giving him permission to touch.  
  
Jesse was starkly aware of the contrast between their skin, and how thick and dark his body hair was, as he reached out to slide a finger between Hanzo's cheeks. With that much slick, he didn't actually need to break out the lube...but he had no idea just _how_ slick it would be. He sank up to his first knuckle without even meaning to, and Hanzo's back bowed slightly as a result.  
  
“Jesse-!” he gasped, breath catching.  
  
“Sorry, I didn't mean to - “  
  
“ _More._ ”  
  
Jesse was no longer sorry. He was hard, harder than he'd probably ever been in his life, and watching his first finger sink into Hanzo's warm, pliant body was easily the best thing he'd ever done in it. Hanzo's soft, encouraging groan met his ears like music, and he pumped his finger gently, testing.  
  
“Oh my _god,_ ” he rumbled, reveling in the way Hanzo's body clenched and relaxed around it. He glanced up long enough to see Hanzo's eyes fixed on the balcony across the way, so he followed his gaze.  
  
Gabriel was in the middle of the same thing, which had Jack squirming with delight. He could see Hanzo's shoulders rising with breath each time Jack jerked forward, and as soon as he realized Hanzo had synchronized himself with Gabriel's rhythm, he matched it with his finger. Hanzo all but melted as Jesse pumped in and out in time to their filthy little show, and it wasn't long before Jesse added a second...and then a third when Hanzo keened for more.  
  
His fingers were soaked, and the scent had Jesse rolling his hips into the air, his heavy cock bobbing with the motions. The faint swell at the base was nothing even close to a real knot yet, but it still prompted him to gently crook his fingers and give a feather-light, careful tug at Hanzo's rim. Hanzo's knees nearly gave out, and he moaned so sharply that Gabriel and Jack actually paused up on the balcony before deciding the noise wasn't worth worrying about.  
  
“Do it again,” Hanzo said, his voice so heavy with pleasure that Jesse thought he could feel it working through his ears and into his mind.  
  
“You don't want these, darlin',” Jesse panted back at him, withdrawing his fingers slowly and wiping the slick off on his arousal. “You want a knot. Ain't anythin' else that's gonna fill you like you're wantin' right now.” Jesse carefully aligned himself, rubbing the tip over Hanzo's hole. If undressing Hanzo had taken all his self-control, not pushing in then and there had ascended him to some godly plane of existence. “I wanna hear you say 'yes' before I do it, though. Ain't worth nothin' if you don't want it.”  
  
Hanzo craned his neck to glare balefully at Jesse over his shoulder. “You really need me to make this clearer for you?” he asked. “ _Yes._ ”  
  
“Just checkin',” Jesse said, not even bothering to finish his two-word sentence before pushing in as slowly as he could bear. His moan mingled with Hanzo's as he bottomed out, hips coming snug with that perfectly round ass, and he was thrusting before he could even formulate his second sentence. “You spent a – ah, an awful long time avoiding...oh _god,_ avoiding me, after all.”  
  
“Stop talking,” Hanzo ordered, pushing back into each thrust.  
  
Jesse listened, much preferring to devote his senses to the filthy, wet noises between their bodies, and the way their skin met with muted snaps. Hanzo was as vocal with Jesse as he was on his own, moaning rough and deep, drawing sharp breaths past those thin pink lips every time Jesse's motions brought him all the way in...now, though, Jesse didn't just have the voice and the scent. He could feel him, the way his body milked every inch of him, the way he tightened and rippled when Jesse grazed his sweet spot.  
  
Jesse bent over Hanzo, mouthing at his neck again before grabbing a gentle handful of his hair so he could take in every possible scent. Hanzo's slick still lingered on his fingers, cutting through the herbal green of his shampoo with its spiced cream, and Jesse wondered for a moment what he must have smelled like to Hanzo.  
  
 _An idiot?_ he thought with pleasure-drunk amusement, grinning against his handful before grabbing both of Hanzo's shoulders for leverage.  
  
Hanzo didn't care for hard, brutal bucks, but he liked them fast, and he rode Jesse's cock with increasing fervor as the heat built between them. _Heat_ , fucking hell. Jesse wanted to have him when he was in heat; he wanted to be there when Hanzo went into it and bury his face between his cheeks, licking and fucking him with his tongue until his sheets were soaked...the idea pushed him far closer than he'd have liked, and Jesse gave a strained, bit-back groan as he held back as best as he could.  
  
Hanzo put a quick end to that. “No, don't,” he moaned, panting with each roll of his hips. “I want you to, Jesse, I want you to finish. I want to feel it, see if I know when you – oh, _oh –_ “  
  
Hanzo definitely knew when Jesse knotted him; what started as a firm pull quickly became an overwhelming fullness. Jesse stopped trying to pull out and just shivered against him, body jolting rhythmically as the pleasure that had been gathering in his belly suddenly took over every single fiber, every sense and thought. He'd never felt anything that tight in his entire life, like Hanzo's body was locking him in place on purpose, and he came with a loud, husky moan that practically shook the walls. His teeth snapped on the air as he struggled against the instinct to mark him now, _right now._  
  
With Jesse in place and the sudden warmth and pulsing of his orgasm, Hanzo knew he wasn't long behind him. He dropped one hand to stroke himself, once, twice, and at three times he was coming in thin lines over his fingers. He cried out Jesse's name, over and over, seemingly endlessly, before finally running out of breath and ejaculate.  
  
It took them both a while to catch their breath, each of them enjoying the remnants of pleasure and the silence broken by soft, contented noises and deep breaths.  
  
Once they did, Jesse looked lazily up at the balcony. Gabriel was still fucking Jack; he had him pressed against the wall, holding him up in the crooks of both elbows with Jack's pants hanging from one ankle, swaying as Gabriel pounded him against the marbled black stone. Jack was gripping the balcony rail with one hand and Gabriel's shoulder with the other, and though the window was still closed, Jesse was fairly sure he could hear them. He grinned, nuzzling the nape of Hanzo's neck...and when Hanzo's shoulders stiffened just a little, he knew he was watching again.  
  
“Told ya' they look good.”  
  
“We are not talking about it.”  
  
Jesse moved gently, just enough for Hanzo to feel his knot shifting and rolling inside of him. Hanzo whined, he actually _whined_ and it was beautiful, before regaining himself and snorting as if affronted. Jesse gave an affectionate chuckle – he knew he could get away with it now, but that didn't stop Hanzo from folding his arms beneath his chin as they rested, hiding most of his face.  
  
Silence lingered for a while longer before Hanzo could no longer tolerate it.  
  
“I think you sent me into early heat,” he groused. “I'm never this...wet otherwise.”  
  
“Could be.” Jesse rubbed the fingers of one hand over his shoulders, soothing him in a direct contrast to his next question. “You want me to leave you alone for this one, too?” Jesse asked.  
  
Hanzo squeezed down on his knot, and Jesse saw stars again.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Can you see them from here?”  
  
Jack glanced down at Jesse's home from his spot on the balcony, trying to make out shapes between the heavy green leaves and giant white flowers that were supposed to afford them privacy. It would have been easier if Gabriel stopped moving, but he'd also be livid if he did, so...  
  
“Yeah. Yeah, I can – oh my _god_ Gabriel, there, right there..!”  
  
Gabriel adjusted his position so he could hit 'there' with greater accuracy. “And?”  
  
“Jesse ha-has him bent over – _ah –_ against the window. Hanzo looks like he's en...enjoy - “  
  
“Good. It's about damn time.”  
  
“Does this mean we – we're gonna stop fucking out here?”  
  
“Never.”  
  
“Good.”

 


End file.
